


Catalogue of kisses (a.k.a Just a take on season 4)

by maria_stan_maria



Category: Atypical (TV 2017)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2020-04-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:01:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23332060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maria_stan_maria/pseuds/maria_stan_maria
Summary: Casey and Izzie take time to carefully explore their new relationship.This is a series of scenes that together make up a possible arc for Casey and Izzie in season 4 of Atypical.
Relationships: Casey Gardner & Izzie, Casey Gardner/Izzie
Comments: 4
Kudos: 187





	1. Trying to keep up

**Author's Note:**

> It is great that there will be a final season, and I am sure the cast and crew will create a beautiful arc for all the characters, but it will be a long time before it comes out and I thought that in these corona times you could use some more Cazzie content. 
> 
> I tried to stay true to the characters and the spirit of the series. So I am afraid there's no smut. But, I hope, lots of other stuff for you to enjoy.
> 
> You can blame grammatical mistakes and lack of lexical diversity on my not being a native speaker.

When Casey closes the door of her house, it is still dark. She curses under her breath. Even though she knew it was going to be tough, it is still hard not to regret her decision at 6 A.M. on a chilly Monday morning. She sits down at the steps to put on her shoes. When she is tying her shoelaces, she hears footsteps approaching fast. She jerks her head up, alert for danger.

“Morning” Izzie screeches to a halt.

“Djeez, you scared me! What are you doing here?”

Izzie raises her eyebrows “Well, I definitely hope your muscles are more awake than your brain,” she points at her shoes, her running clothes, “What does it look like I’m doing here?” Casey can’t help but be a little bit offended, “Yeah, I see that. I mean: did you really get out of bed this early to go running? Like, voluntarily?”

Izzie smirks “It’s not that early. Anyway, did you really think I was going to let you do this crazy training schedule and see you get faster and faster without me even trying to keep up?”

Casey rolls her eyes, but then her brain catches up and realizes the implications of what Izzie just said. “Wait, you intend to join me for torture sessions every time?” Izzie shrugs her shoulders “What can I say, I don’t like getting beaten. Plus: it means I get to spend more time with you.” She gives Casey a hand, pulls her on her feet and in one smooth motion pulls her in for a kiss. The contrast between Izzie’s cold lips and warm breath sends a chill down Casey’s spine. All of a sudden, morning runs do not seem that big a sacrifice. But she cannot help herself and when she pulls out of the kiss, her smile turns into a grin and she says: “if you don’t like losing, I am not sure you joining me is a good idea.” “We’ll see about that Newton. Don’t get too smug because you won that one race. You might have been at the top of your game that day, but I” Izzie hesitates for a brief moment. She has never referred to her underperforming at the game, even though she knows Casey must have noticed. “But I was not very focused. I was…distracted…and confused and – ” she meets Casey’s gaze, but cannot read what the other girl is thinking. Her uncertainty makes her decide to play it off like a joke “You know, just stupid teenage drama caused by my being a stupid teenager. The very thing coach always warned us about.” She does not wait for Casey’s response, but turns around “Let’s go!” and she says over her shoulder “And we both know, Newton, that I can still beat your ass at sprints. So, curb your confidence a little and let’s start training.” Casey opens her mouth to give a witty response, but Izzie is right: her brain is not warmed up yet. And to be honest: nor is her body. So, she just grunts and joins Izzie’s easy pace. While they are jogging shoulder to shoulder, Casey casts a sideway glance. She cannot believe Izzie is serious about this. But then: she should not be surprised. That girl is nothing if not driven. And she _does_ hate to lose. “Thank you” Izzie catches her gaze: “You’re welcome. But I must warn you: I do draw the line at the diet stuff. I can’t do that.” Casey wholeheartedly agrees. “Yeah, dude, I know, it’s gross!” “No, it’s not that…” Izzie is staring at the road ahead, very much no longer looking at the other girl, who says “Oh, trust me, it is. It is very tasteless and very not pizza-like.” Izzie shakes her head, a little annoyed “Yeah, maybe, I don’t know, maybe it is, but” “What?” “It is just, that stuff is too time-consuming to prepare. And also…too expensive.” Casey feels like a moron now. She knows her friend’s situation at home is not ideal and healthy, to say the least, but she had never considered Izzie as poor. Which, to her defense, might say something about how little she cares about stuff like that. But it also shows how little thought she has given it. Because, obviously, a single-parent drug addict with four kids is very unlikely to be well-off. Casey struggles for words, not knowing what to say, but Izzie saves her from embarrassment: “Life is a bitch, right? You have to starve yourself on salads and steamed chicken breast, whereas I will just have to beat you using cereals and pizza as fuel. I am all warmed up. Let’s get going.”

When Elsa hears the front door slam shut, she shouts: “Breakfast is on the table.” She turns around; “How was your morning run, honey? Oh, hey Izzie. Casey didn’t tell me you were going for a run together.” Is it just Casey’s brain or is their suspicion in her mom’s voice? “Good morning Mrs. Gardner. Well, Casey didn’t know. I kind of ambushed her.” Elsa frowns. “You should have told me, now there is not enough breakfast.” Izzie shakes her head. “That’s okay Mrs. Gardner, I just came in to have a glass of water before I head home. I want to check whether my brothers and sister have had their breakfast and I have to help them get ready for school.” She quickly gulps down the water “Bye Newton, see you at school. Bye Mrs. Gardner.” After she has shut the door, Casey turns to her mom “Elsa, that was really rude.” Her mom looks surprised. “Me? What did I do? I just said that if I had known, I could have made her breakfast too.” Casey knows it’s not really fair, but she had hoped to at least have another kiss before Izzie had to leave and with Elsa doing the-perfect-mom-act in the kitchen, this opportunity had disappeared “You scared her away.” Now Elsa looks offended “What? No, that’s not true. You heard her, she had to go home anyway, to check on her siblings. I did not scare her away. I didn’t, did I? Oh no, Case, you think I made her feel unwelcome?” Even though a part of her enjoys seeing Elsa drive herself crazy, Casey quickly reassures her: “No, Elsa, I’m pretty sure you did not make her feel unwelcome. She just had to go. Actually, I was surprised to learn that she intends to join me on my morning runs. Her mornings are pretty busy already.” Elsa thinks she can hear worry and regret in her daughter’s voice. Or maybe that’s just projection. “Yeah, that girl is taking quite a weight on her shoulders.” and after a short pause “You know what Case? Maybe you could drive over to her place next time. It will save her the time of getting here and back. I could even make you two some porridge and fresh fruit salad to go and you could just have breakfast over there.” “Hm…yeah, I don’t– ” “Might even be easier to shower there, get dressed and drive to school together.” Casey knows her mom has a point, but she doubts whether Izzie will like the idea: “I don’t know, Elsa. She has never even invited me into her house.” Now Elsa is sure she can see insecurity and worry in her daughter’s eyes. “I’m sorry, honey, it was just an idea. But maybe you could suggest to just meet her there for your runs?” “Yeah, I guess.” “And I could still make her breakfast.” Casey shoots her mom a dangerous look. “I mean, I really don’t want her to feel unwelcome.”

Casey rounds the corner and she sees the by now familiar view of Izzie leaning against her locker, waiting for her. The other girl hasn’t seen her yet, and Casey waits for the moment Izzie spots her, for this moment when she knows the girl’s face will break into a smile that lights up her entire face. There it is. “Newton!” “Hey Iz” “What is on your menu for today?” “I am not sure I want to know.” “That bad, huh?” “Let’s wait and see. Hey Iz, I’ve been thinking…” Casey knows it’s stupid, but she feels nervous about bringing this up. “If you are really gonna do this training schedule with me, I could also come and pick you up at your place in the mornings” Izzie tilts her head. “What? No, that’s not…why?” See, she knew Izzie would not like her crossing this boundary. “Never mind. It was just this lame idea Elsa came up with. She suggested I come over to your place like at least half of the time, to save you the time of getting to and from my place. Come on, let’s go get you some food. I’m hungry.” She feels a blush creeping up her cheeks, so she grabs Izzie’s hand and starts to walk to the student restaurant. The dark-haired girl pulls her back. “Nerd, where are you running?” Casey avoids her gaze. “Are you being serious? Would you really get up even earlier to come to my place?” “Of course. I mean, I cannot promise I won’t be grumpy, but it’s only fair that I would be the earliest riser half of the time.” Izzie squeezes her hand: “If it means I can get half an hour extra sleep, it’s definitely worth the risk of a grumpy you on my doorstep.”


	2. Fighting over breakfast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter. Most chapters will be significantly longer.
> 
> Oh, and I forgot to mention this:  
> I hope to turn this into a ten chapter story. I will try to add a new chapter once or twice a week.  
> Enjoy!
> 
> For the next chapter: I was thinking, if you do sports, there is usually a communal shower room (at least where I live), which means they would have seen each other naked. So, how would that go?

They are almost back at Izzie’s house, so Casey says: “Race you?” To her surprise the answer is “No, wait a second.” Instead of speeding up, Izzie slows down. “What, too tired?” An offended “No!” and Izzie grabs Casey by her shirt, forcing her to stop. She pulls her close and plants her lips on Casey’s, almost immediately deepening the kiss. She breaks the kiss for a second: “This was higher on my to do list.” Casey wraps her arms around Izzie and bites her neck: “Seems to me like you’ve got your priorities all sorted.” Casey’s hand glides under the other girl’s shirt, and Izzie shivers at the touch. Her already quickened heartbeat seems to become even faster and her lips search the taller girl’s lips. She can feel her fingers slowly climbing upwards towards the cotton hem of her sports bra. All of a sudden, she becomes aware of the sweat in the dip of her back and between her breasts. Abruptly she breaks the kiss and says: “Now I’m ready to race you.” She sees Casey’s dazed look and relishes the knowledge that she can elicit as intense feelings in Casey as Casey does in her. “Ready?” They both nod. “Go!”

Casey touches her dad’s car parked in front of the house a split second before Izzie does and the latter can’t suppress a grunt of frustration. Casey doesn’t hear it, or decides to ignore it. She just checks her watch and says: “Even with the short interruption, we still did pretty good.” Casey opens the car, takes out a Tupperware box and says: “Here, Elsa would kill me if I forgot to give this to you. She made you one of her new superfood porridge recipes. She says you have to make sure to have a decent breakfast, because” and here she does an attempt to imitate Elsa “it is the most important meal of the day.” Izzie shoots a glance at the box with the blue lid and feels irritation rising in her throat. “Why would your mom tell you to tell me that? I’m not stupid. I am perfectly able to make my own breakfast. Why the hell did you tell her about…” Izzie cannot make herself repeat what she confessed to the other girl earlier, and she feels her old defense mechanisms kick in “It’s none of her business what I do or don’t eat for breakfast. And it was definitely not up to you to go blabbing to your mom about my eating habits or the money issues of our…” Izzie knows she is doing it again. And she knows she does not want to. She manages to stop herself midsentence, takes a deep breath and tries again. “That was…I didn’t mean to…” she hears the insecurity seeping into her voice, but she forces herself to let it be. In a soft voice she asks “Did you…you didn’t tell her about the… about any of that, did you?” She looks up at Casey, who, to Izzie’s relief, is giving her a reassuring smile and answers “Of course not, nerd! You really think she would have given me only one Tupperware box if I had? Man, I think she would have personally driven over to your house to stuff your freezer with food. No, Elsa is just being Elsa. She has coach Crowley’s phone number now and they have been texting, texting, about my diet. And now she is following this fit girl that is blogging about overnight oats and shit. I was complaining about it and she said that she was sure you would be able to appreciate it. So, if you want to make her day, you’ll text her that you liked it” Casey makes a funny face as she hands her the box “But I have to warn you: there are probably chia seeds in there, which are supposed to be superfoods, but I think it is just a fancy name for bird’s seed.” Izzie is grinning now, relieved that she stopped herself from going into full bitch mode just in time. As Casey steps into the car, Izzie says “Your mom is the best.” Casey squints her eyes: “Well, I am definitely not gonna pass that message on.” she starts the engine “See you at school!”


	3. Imprinted on her brain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Izzie has no last name yet. Since there will be a season four, I expect the writers to give her one and therefore I decided to leave her last name blank. You can either insert your own preferred last name for her, or wait until season 4 comes out before filling it the blanks.

Before her biology class Izzie stops by Casey’s locker to hand her the Tupperware box back. “You cleaned it?” Elsa’s daughter exclaims, “Nerd, why did you do that? You know we have a dishwasher, right?” Izzie shrugs “I just didn’t think it was very polite.” “So…?” Casey wriggles her eyebrows “what happened to the overnight oats? Did they end up in a) the toilet b) the garbage can or c) in the hair of one of your siblings when you tried to force it down their throat because you didn’t want it go to waste?” “I ate them.” “You ate them?” “Yeah, I am starting to think you are really exaggerating about this diet, Newton. It was pretty good. I mean, it’s not cheerios, but those are basically just cookies disguised as breakfast. It gives lots of energy and the fresh fruit was really really nice.” Casey is shaking her head, acting as if she is really disappointed in her friend’s judgement “Don’t tell me you liked the chia seeds” With a blank expression Izzie says “Yes, those where a nice touch. Very -” Casey grabs her and shakes her shoulders: “Please tell me you’re kidding!” Izzie smirks “Yeah, okay, no chia seeds are pretty gross. Very slimy. And they look like spawn.” “Exactly! Wow, I am relieved. You almost made me reassess your mental health.”

After quite an intense training session the entire track team is relieved to hear coach Crowley blow her whistle and shout “Time to rehydrate ladies! Gardner, [insert last name Izzie here] come over here please.” The two girls quickly grab their water bottles and use their last energy to jog to their coach. “It took you two long enough and I must admit that I had almost lost faith in my intuition, but when I recruited you Gardner, I was thinking of you [insert last name Izzie]. I knew you would be good together” The two girls are a little bit confused. They are pretty sure that coach is not using the word together as in ‘together together’ and as far as they know she is not aware of everything that has happened between that time they got detention in her office and now, but she still sounds an awful lot like a match maker: “You two complement each other. You’re challenging each other and making each other better.” Izzie is now digging the nose of her trainer into the grass, while Casey is staring at a point beyond coach’s shoulder while taking a sip form her bottle. “I don’t know what you two are doing when I’m not around…” Casey chokes on her water and starts coughing. Izzie tries very hard not to start laughing, but she can’t prevent a grin from creeping up her cheeks “…but it’s working. Your times are improving even more than I expected. So, basically, all I have to say is…keep doing what you’re doing. And stay away from the drama” When the girls don’t move or say anything, Crowley adds: “Now, go and take a shower.” Izzie manages to say “Yes, coach” without letting the giggle in her throat escape, grabs a red Casey by the hand, and pulls her toward the locker rooms. When they are halfway across the track field, coach shouts: “It’s nothing illegal you’re doing now, is it?” Casey’s eyes go wide and Izzie shouts back “No coach, don’t worry” before breaking into a jog. When they reach the locker rooms Izzie bursts out laughing. “Newton, you should have seen your face! That was priceless!” “Well, it was pretty weird, wasn’t it?” Tears are rolling down Izzie’s cheeks and she is hiccupping now “Well, it is pretty rare, but I think coach was just paying us a compliment.” Finally, Casey starts smiling too. “Yeah, I think she was. And I do agree with her that she has a good intuition when it comes to matching people.”

The rest of the team is already in the communal shower chatting loudly when the two enter the locker room. They quickly undress and Izzie is hyper aware of her own naked body and its proximity to Casey’s. It’s not like they haven’t seen each other naked before: they have been taking showers after practice since day one. And of course, every girl on the team has checked the others out. They know about each other’s birthmarks, possible piercings and tattoos, scars. They have discussed insecurities, breasts and vulvas, shaving techniques, injuries, boys. So, she knows what Casey’s body looks like. And she knows Casey has seen hers too. But from the moment she had a crush on her teammate, or, to be more precise, from the moment she dared to admit it to herself, something had changed. Before, being in the shower with the team was completely asexualized; their bodies just a collection of limbs. But all of a sudden, one body was foregrounded. As if every mental image before that moment had been blurry and all of a sudden, the camera had refocused. Every glimpse she caught of the other girl’s body imprinted itself on her brain and had made her question what it was she was feeling. And whether Casey was feeling the same. Soap dripping from a shoulder. Drops of water on a calve. Hands applying body lotion to abs. The line between armpit and breast. It drove her crazy and it had made her feel like a voyeur; vulgar. So, she had trained herself not to watch. And now, everything has changed again. Now, she knows it was mutual. And that it is very unlikely that Casey is not lying in bed at night thinking about the two of them, fantasizing about where they will go from here, about her body, their bodies, the next step. But so far, they have only kissed and somehow it still feels wrong to peak at her girlfriend’s (girlfriend’s?) naked body. Like reading the end of the novel when you are only in chapter two. “Hey, captain” Penelope’s voice snaps her out of her thoughts, “go and get a shower before you catch a cold!” Izzie realizes that her team members are already getting dressed. Izzie sighs and grabs her shampoo and conditioner. When she enters the shower, Casey is rinsing her hair and Izzie quickly picks a spot on the opposite side. When the other girl opens her eyes, they fall on Izzie, who’s facing the wall. She glances at the curves of her body, the water running from her long black hair over her back, buttocks, thighs. A tingling feeling starts to spread through her body and she quickly gets out and grabs a towel.


	4. Getting the goals straight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An Izzie focused chapter showing her geeky and her ambitious side.  
> Some written from Izzie's perspective, some from coach Crowley's.

They’re doing experiments in chemistry today, and there is nothing Izzie dislikes more. Especially when it is the first class of the day. It is so useless having to repeat experiments that have been proven to work like, what? a hundred years before? Even more so when you know the formula. She could have gotten a much-needed extra hour of sleep. Instead, the teacher has them do an acid-base titration that takes like an hour. And you never get the equivalence point right anyway, because by the time you’ve finally added enough drops of one liquid to the other you’re so bored that you stopped paying attention or lost count. She is doodling circle-like figures next to the correct answer which she plans to note down on the answer sheet for the experiment regardless of the number of drops Casey will come up with. She wonders what Sam thinks of these kinds of classes. Would he agree with her, or would he think it is still useful to check whether theory and practice match up? She looks at Casey who’s wearing a white lab coat and safety glasses and seems to be completely focused at the task at hand. She likes the frown on the girl’s forehead, the way she is biting her tongue in concentration. She doesn’t think she has ever seen Newton this geeky and she decides to cherish the moment a bit longer before illuminating her about the fact that she has the correct answer here on her notepad. When the other girl finally notices the gaze that is resting upon her, she says “What are you looking at?” to which Izzie promptly replies: “Oh, just someone that looks an awful lot like Sam Gardner’s geekier sister.” “I do not!” “Trust me, you do, but it’s actually really, really cute.” Under the table, Izzie’s hand finds Casey’s thigh and she gives it a light squeeze: “And that means something, coming from the biggest chemistry nerd of the school, who, by the way, has already calculated the correct answer. So, just stop what you’re doing and talk to your very bored lab partner instead.” Her hand is still resting on Casey’s thigh and she slowly moves it a few inches upward, her fingers stroking the thin fabric of the trousers. Even this small move makes her heart race with excitement, but the other girl does not seem to notice: she just adds another drop and for the briefest moment there is a hint if a change in color. “No wait, I think I’m almost there.” Izzie rolls her eyes, she knows that that change is deceptive: the liquid will keep making that promise for at least another thirty drops, so she just reaches for the basic liquid in Casey’s hand and adds a goods splash of it to the acid liquid in the larger container which immediately turns violet. “What are you doing!?” “I finished the assignment early, so I can get some quality time with you. It’s called time management.” “You’re so annoying” Casey grunts, but her eyes are already smiling. “If annoying is a synonym for way smarter than you, then, yes, I agree.” Izzie teases. “Come on, you are not gonna tell me that you actually liked this tedious, repetitive drop-by-drop thing? And don’t you dare use the word meditative, because I swear I will smack your head.” “Well, someone woke up in a good mood!” “Someone woke up way too early to do a useless task that is not on her to-do list.” “So, what is on your to-do list?” Casey asks in a serious tone. “You don’t wanna know,” and after a short pause Izzie sighs and adds, “I don’t even wanna know.” Casey wriggles her eyebrows: “Am I on your to-do list?” Casey is relieved to see Izzie’s smile reappear: “Dude, that sounds really gross and wrong in so many ways.” “Yeah, I realized that like two seconds too late. But…” and now she casts a very obvious glance at Izzie’s hand “something made me think I was.” “Oh, so you did notice. That’s a relief, Newton.” Izzie is pleased when she sees the slightest blush appear on the girl’s face. A phone buzzes and Casey jumps at the opportunity to avoid having to come up with a witty response. She sneakily takes it from her pocket to check who’s texting her. “It’s the she-wolf” she whispers. Izzie says under her breath: “Good thing you put it on silent mode” thinking of the ringtone Casey has assigned to her mom. “She wants me to invite you over for dinner tomorrow evening.” “Oh, that’s nice.” Casey makes a face and says: “No, it’s not. She knows and she is just looking for an opportunity to grill you.” Izzie shrugs “Well, we don’t have to tell her anything.” Casey raises her eyebrows “Have you met this woman?” Izzie fakes being offended: “You think I will crack under pressure?” Casey nudges her shoulder “No. Probably not. But it is going to be super awkward and weird. And you can just make it all go away by politely saying no" “I can do weird.” Casey gives her a warm smile, remembering their first hallway-kiss “I know you can.” Her phone buzzes again. She checks the message: “She is making lasagna” “Okay, now I am definitely coming! I love lasagna” Another buzz: [just tell Izzie, honey! she loves lasagna and I know she will want to come] “Man! Did this woman bug my phone?” “Just tell her that I would love to come” and when Casey shoots her a dangerous look “What Newton? I am just trying to be likeable for a possible future mother-in-law. That’s one species you never ever want as an enemy.” Casey knows Izzie is just joking, but she can’t help but feel herself go all warm inside when she hears the other girl call Elsa…that. “Okay, you win” She sends a short text and almost instantly receives an answer [good. have a nice day, honey bear. And say hi to Izzie from me.] followed by another one [did she like the porridge?] 

A knock on the door. “Come in!” Coach Crowley looks up and sees Izzie entering her office. She stalls in the doorway and is biting her lip. Crowley has known this student long enough to see that she is nervous. “Hey coach.” “Hey Izzie, come in, take a seat. Is something wrong?” The girl drops her duffel bag on the floor and picks a seat. Crowley lets the silence stretch between them. She knows better than pushing this girl: she has tried it before and it always backfired. Crowley pretends to be reading the documents on her desk and wonders what brought the girl to her office. She definitely hopes it has nothing to do with her home situation. Even though Izzie does not like to disclose much about it, she knows bits and pieces. When she recruited her in her freshman year, the coach and principal from the girl’s former school had filled her in. They had even advised against the scholarship, stating that “the students results might not be stable and reliable enough to grant her a full scholarship to Clayton.” This had made her want to recruit the girl only more: she knew raw talent and determination when she saw it and the girl deserved to at least get a chance. Hell, at some point she even started to think that the coach and principal just wanted to keep Izzie at their school for their own prestige. Well, they picked the wrong opponent: Crowley had personally convinced Clayton’s board to go through with it, despite the negative advice. And the girl had not let her down. Well, except for that one time. She never had gotten to the bottom of it, but she knew Izzie must have had a good reason for not showing up at such a crucial moment. So, instead of punishing her, she had decided to make her team captain, hoping that the responsibility would prevent it from happening again, which, so far, had worked. The girl is still sitting across from her, plucking at the skin next to her fingernails. “Do you want a glass of water?” Izzie’s head shoots up, as if she had forgotten that Crowley was still in the office. “No, thanks, I just…I wanted to ask you something. I have been training really hard…” “Yes, I have noticed. Your times are improving.” “But still Casey is beating me and I am really frustrated. I don’t think it is fair that she–” Oh no, no teenage drama again. Coach thought that problem had been solved. “Okay, wait, I am gonna stop you right there. I told you before: you’re a team and jealousy or fights are not gonna help the team forward, so I won’t allow stuff like that, not on my watch.” Izzie looks confused now: “No, it’s not that. I’m not jealous. Or, not in like a bad way. But I feel like I’m stalling now and Casey is not.” Okay, this is always a hard one to take. “Look Izzie, you cannot always be the best in everything.” The girl shoots her a furious look: “I know! She is way better at the mid distances. But I know I can give her a run for her money on the 100 and 200. If only you would allow me to…” midsentence she stops her rant, when she realizes she is almost screaming at her coach. Crowley calmly asks: “If only I allowed you to…what?” Izzie takes a deep breath and continues in the mature voice the coach has come to refer to as her team captain voice: “I totally get it if the answer is no, because I know I have no reason to, to…I mean, no one has expressed interest in recruiting me yet, but…I hoped that maybe I could join her for the strength training and stuff.” Okay, she had not seen this one coming. Crowley has to suppress a smile: the girl was this nervous because she wanted to voluntarily sign up for a heavier training schedule? She definitely is a very atypical teenager. “Okay” she is staring into the girl’s eyes and secretly enjoys the increase in nervousness that it causes: “let me just check whether I am understanding you correctly: you want to double my fun by letting me torture not one but two members of my track team?” A slight nod, big eyes. “Just to be clear: you know there is no guarantee whatsoever that this will mean you will get recruited, right?” The girl sits up straight and says with determination: “I know, coach, but it can’t hurt to try to improve my chances of getting noticed.” That’s the spirit. God, moments like these, students like this one, make her love her job. “What does Casey think?” Izzie is taken by surprise by this question “I don’t know. I didn't ask her. Should I?” “Absolutely not. This is my call. I’ll see you two tomorrow after school. I can’t wait.” Izzie gets up to leave and before she closes the door, coach says: “You know you just made my day, right?” which elicits a small but genuine smile from the girl.


	5. Cataloguing kisses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally Casey and Izzie get some alone time for a decent making out session

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I noticed that the lay-out of my chapters is not as readable as that of others. I do not know how to change that, but I tried to insert more blank space manually. Hope this is better.

Izzie is in the kitchen chatting with Elsa, and even though Casey would vehemently deny it if anyone would ask and even though she will definitely tease Izzie with it afterwards, her heart swells in her chest when she sees how well the two get along. Her mom is showing her the blog with the porridge recipes and Izzie is giving extensive feedback on the versions she has tried so far.  
“I really liked the cacao banana one.” Casey silently agrees. That one was actually pretty good.  
Elsa is practically beaming: “Yes, well, I modified that one a bit. There was no cacao in it, but I thought it would be really good with the banana.”  
“Absolutely. Way better than the one with chia seeds. I am glad you abandoned those.”  
Elsa pouts her lips: “That bad, huh?”  
Izzie weighs her words: “The fresh fruit was lovely, but those seeds are not really my thing. Have you tried them?”  
“Yes, I had a small bite.”  
“And?”  
Elsa bends towards Izzie, as if sharing a secret: “Honestly? I thought they looked an awful lot like…,” here she hesitates, and Izzie finishes the sentence whispering: “spawn?” Elsa’s eyes go wide, she starts nodding and laughing: “Exactly!”  
Casey is starting to get annoyed. She does not want to seem jealous, but she feels their pre-dinner study-time diminish and she has been looking forward to being in a room alone with Izzie all day.  
“I am sorry to interrupt you, but Iz, you had promised to help me study for biology?”  
She can hear the whining in her voice and she hates is, but luckily homework is like the magic word for Elsa: “Oh of course honey, sorry! You two better get some work done before dinner’s ready!”

Casey is trying to focus on the stuff Izzie is explaining to her, but she keeps getting distracted by the girl’s hands that are dancing in space as she is passionately talking about genetics and DNA.  
A blush has crept up the black-haired girl’s cheeks and her eyes are all wide when she turns to Casey and says: “See, Newton? So, on a very basic level, you can predict what the offspring’s characteristics will be. That’s pretty cool isn’t it? Like, we both have brown eyes, but because brown is the dominant gene, we could totally get a kid with blue eyes. I mean, like, not together, or like, not biologically, obviously, but you get the point” she laughs a shy smile and Casey’s mind is now set on only one thing.  
But Izzie is absorbed and continues: “Or whether or not you like a G&T, because of the quinine in tonic, or like, can you make a roll with your tongue like this?” Izzie sticks out her tongue, sides upward so that it forms a U and this sight breaks the spell. Casey’s tension is released through a burst of laughter, which makes Izzie slightly insecure. A little taken aback she adds: “Of course, nurture is quite important to”  
“Obviously” Casey agrees, but Izzie does not notice the mocking in her voice and takes it as a cue to continue: “and usually it is a highly complex interaction between the two, like for example when it comes to intelligence, or sexuality or addiction or…” here her voice trails off and she abruptly stops talking.  
Casey notices the sudden change in mood and quickly puts her hands on the other girl’s cheeks. “You know I really like you when you go into full nerd mode, but the problem is that I like it so much that I stop paying attention to what you’re saying, because of how cute you are when you say it.”  
Izzie studies her face to see if she is being ironic. Then she pouts, but there’s a glimmer in her eyes when she says: “So, basically, Newton, what you are saying is that I have been wasting my time explaining stuff to a poor scholarship student that did not care enough to pay attention.”  
Casey grins. “Well, I’m not sure. I’d say they did pay attention, just not to what you were saying. And I can assure you they did not consider it a waste of time.”  
Izzie playfully smacks the back of Casey’s head and at that moment Elsa puts her head around the door: “Hey, no violence in my home!” and she winks.  
“Oh, hi Mrs. Gardner, no worries, I was just teaching her a lesson.”  
“Okay, in that case I will not interrupt you any further. Just came to say that lasagna is on the table in ten” and with those words, Elsa turns around and shuts the door behind her.  
Casey’s jaw drops: “Did you see that?”  
Izzie frowns. “Did I see what?”  
“She closed the door.”  
Izzie shrugs her shoulders, which makes Casey realize that, of course, they were always able to close the door before, so nothing out of the ordinary. Except, it is.  
“When I was with,” she hesitates for a second “Evan, the door had to stay open at all times. Every time we tried to close it, it was like she could feel a force field shifting. And now…what happened to the open-door policy? I mean,” Casey is whispering now, “she knows. So, what is she trying to communicate?”  
Izzie finally realizes what Casey is hinting at, but she does not share her concern: “I have no idea, Newton, but I am not complaining.” A cheeky look appears on the girl’s face as she leans toward Casey, “And I suggest you stop worrying about it, because as I understand it, your mom has just given us a ten-minute timeframe and I plan to make the most of it.”  
She quickly slides her hands behind the Gardner girl’s neck and pulls her in for a kiss. When their lips touch she hears a sharp intake of breath and she is not sure whether it is her or Casey making the sound, but she knows the impatience is shared between the two of them. They have been longing for a decent make out session way too long now. Actually, this is only the third time they have found the time and space to go uninterrupted for longer than ten seconds and she is still not used to the feelings that wash over her. Every time they make out it seems so familiar, yet new and exhilarating at the same time.

In her mind, Izzie has been creating a catalogue of all their kisses, each with its own meaning and feeling attached. Before Casey kissed her that first time, she had been really worried that it would damage their friendship if they would pass that threshold, wipe out everything that they shared. Instead it felt like their kissing had just added an extra layer. The stable undercurrent of trust and understanding was complemented with a layer of wonder and excitement.  
That night on the track field had held the promise of new depths and possibilities and their first kiss was a careful and surprised exploration of this new energy.  
The second time was in Casey’s room, right after she had broken up with Evan. Izzie had wanted to give her some space, but somehow, they had ended up kissing anyway. She had been comforting her friend, when Casey had searched for her lips. And she had hesitated, not sure it was the right thing to do, whether this was really what her friend needed. Hell, if anyone would have told her before, she would have been convinced that kissing someone in that situation was a really bad call. But the kiss had been comforting and full of trust. There was space for sadness in it, and understanding.  
And then there was the kiss at the door. The clumsy and awkward do-we-kiss-each-other-goodnight-now kiss. It lacked grace and was uncoordinated, but that was exactly why she cherished it.  
The most painful one should, strictly speaking, not be considered part of her collection, but she felt that the almost-kiss in the hotel room party was too crucial to be left out. Physical desire had washed over her, making her aware of her body like never before: it was the first time in her life she felt completely out of control and it had terrified her that she had barely been able to stop herself. Whenever she remembered that moment, she felt ashamed, but she also knew that she had needed it to fully realize and accept what was happening to her, to them.  
Then there was the one she was secretly proud of. Her bravest moment, when she decided in a split second to kiss the girl she was so madly in love with right there in Clayton’s hallway. It was desperate and filled with fear, but also more honest and vulnerable than she had ever let herself be before.  
After that followed the one outside Crowley’s office: the mutual promise of commitment and also the promise to herself not to mess this up.  
And then a string of small pecks and stolen kisses as a series of reaffirmations. With hindsight those had mostly just been a way to bridge the gap between then and now, all building up to this. This kiss. This one is not careful or caring or sweet, but breathtaking and dizzying and devouring. She is spiraling out of control again, but this time she lets herself be submerged.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> to be continued in chapter 6


	6. Knocking is a logical tactic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> continues where chapter 5 stopped.  
> 

Casey is not sure who initiated it or when it happened, but they are standing now, Casey leaning against the desk, and their bodies are pressing into each other. Izzie’s hands have trailed down to her ass and their pelvises are tilted forward. Through the fabric of their shirts she feels the softness of breasts and how their quickened breaths constantly create slight changes in pressure. Casey hooks her fingers behind the other girl’s shoulder blades. They have never been this close and she does not know whether it is because of too little or too much oxygen, but her body outpaces her brain and is taking the lead. She bites Izzie’s lip, eliciting a gasp, followed by a soft moan. As a response, the other girl’s mouth starts to search its way down Casey’s neck, leaving a trail of sloppy kisses and small bites. Casey feels a surge of heat racing through her body and her breathing becomes heavy.  
“Hey Casey, Izzie, dinner’s ready. Oh, I didn’t know you were busy.”  
“Jesus, Sam!”  
Her brother is standing in the doorway of the shared bathroom: “You know, you should hang a sock on the doorknob, that way I know– ”  
“A sock?” comes Izzie’s confused response, drowned in a louder “You know, you should knock!” coming from Casey.  
Sam frowns: “Well, that would be highly inefficient. Knocking is hardly ever necessary, whereas a sock on the door would be an unmistakable –”  
“Knocking is always necessary. This is my room. How many times do I –”  
Here Izzie puts her hand on the raging girl’s arm and says calmly and with a small chuckle in her voice: “Sam, I think that from now on there will be a significant change in the chances and it will be safe to assume that whenever I am here with your sister knocking will be a good idea.”  
“So, you’re saying that whenever you two are in Casey’s room you are making out?”  
Izzie is grinning now: “Let’s just say that the chance is more than fifty percent, which makes knocking a logical tactic.”  
Sam gives a short nod: “Yes, that makes sense. So, are you coming? I can smell the lasagna.” As he turns to leave, Casey says “Sam, could you please not tell mom or dad about this. Or about your sock suggestion?”  
He looks a bit puzzled: “Why would I tell them? I cannot think of a conversation in which this information would be relevant.”  
His sister bursts out in a relieved laughter “Me neither, Sam. Thanks. And yes, we definitely want lasagna.”  
When he has closed the door, she quirks her eyebrows at Izzie: “More than fifty percent, huh?” she says under her breath.  
Izzie gives her a sly grin: “I expect that to be a gross underestimation of the figures, but I was being careful,” and the unexpected sassiness of the black-haired girl’s response makes Casey’s face turn crimson.

When the girls come downstairs there is a studied space between them, but Elsa nevertheless spots the blushing, the wonder of what just happened visible in their dazed eyes. It is all the confirmation she needs and she cannot suppress a broad smile.  
“What?” grunts her daughter.  
“Nothing.”  
Ever since she walked in on the two girls at Casey’s sweet sixteen party she has been secretly rooting for Izzie. It took way longer than she expected for the girls to figure out what seemed so obvious to her, but she had managed to resist meddling. Yes, she was proud that Casey had taken the time to figure things out and that she had been so grown-up and responsible when it came to her relationship with Evan, but it had pained her to see that her daughter’s ignorance kept hurting Izzie. The dark-haired girl had been nothing but patient and Elsa could see her trying to keep her distance to prevent from getting more hurt, but every now and then the Gardner mom caught her casting a glance at her daughter that betrayed how Izzie was struggling to keep it all together. The girl deserved some easy and self-evident love and the energy and electricity that was passing back and forward between the two girls was almost unbearable. But also, contagious. Even when Doug and she were going through such a hard time, seeing it lit up her day and made her want to giggle. So, it was for her own benefit as much as the girls’ that she had decided to close the bedroom door when she left Casey’s room tonight. She thought of it as a small nudge of encouragement and she feels immensely pleased with herself that it has worked. What she doesn’t realize is that it was not their first kiss.  
“Casey, this dish of lasagna is for you. It is diet proof, but, so I hope, still tasty.”  
“I doubt it”  
Izzie gives the Gardner girl a warning look, and says: “Can I try a piece of that one too, Mrs. Gardner? I want to compare,” and Elsa gives her a grateful look.  
Sam studies the special lasagna before saying: “I can understand the theoretical value of comparing, but since I am perfectly happy with the way mom has been making lasagna for years, I think I will pass.”  
Izzie nudges him and says: “Well, I will let you know my initial findings and you can always reassess.”  
Casey rolls her eyes: “you two are so weird,” but Elsa can practically see the love emanating from her daughter.

After dinner Izzie gets up to help Elsa with the dishes and although Casey makes a point of sighing loudly to express her aversion, she does get up to help too. Elsa suppresses a slight smile when her daughter enters the kitchen with a stack of dirty plates.  
“Case, are you driving Izzie home?”  
“Yeah, I guess so, why?”  
“Well, wouldn’t it be easier if she slept over?” and to Izzie: “Only if you want to, honey.” Casey almost drops her stack and a few forks clatter loudly on the floor: “Why?”  
Elsa is taken by surprise by her own suggestion, but it is too late to draw back now, so she decides to just enjoy her daughter’s confused uncertainty and go with it: “Well, you were going for a run tomorrow morning anyway, so Izzie would have to be here again at, what? six o clock? Little sense in going home only for a few hours of sleep.”  
Sam has heard the last part of the conversation and snickers: “Yeah, mom is right. That is highly ineffective. In fact, since driving there and biking from there to here takes at least thirty minutes, you would even get more sleep here,” and after a short pause: “Theoretically, at least.”  
Casey wants to smack her brother’s head, but she knows that will only makes things worse. “It’s a really nice offer, Mrs. Gardner, but I am not sure it’s possible. I‘ll have to call my brother first to check.”  
Elsa gives her a warm smile. “Of course.”  
Izzie grabs her phone from her pocket and walks to the living room. Elsa tries to overhear the conversation, but it’s indistinguishable until Izzie raises her voice: “Really? You got to be kidding me. Okay, sure.” and after a pause: “Yeah, hi mom. Yes, I am at a friend’s house. Yes, Mrs. Gardner suggested it. No,” a deep sigh, “okay, wait a second.”  
Izzie comes into the kitchen and hands Elsa the phone: “My mom wants to talk to you.” Elsa nods and walks into the living room.  
“Are you okay?” comes Casey’s concerned question.  
“Yeah, no, I don’t know. I guess I am just…annoyed?” Izzie is frowning “I mean, my mom was relatively sober, so that is great, but I really can’t stand it that she chose now of all moments to do this whole responsible parent act, wanting to talk to your mom and all. I mean, that’s all it is: a show for you mom to keep up appearances.”  
Casey tries to reassure her: “Well, Elsa knows everything about pretending, so I am sure she will see through her. Are you okay with this?”  
Izzie gives her a confused look: “With what?”  
Casey gives a small cough: “Sleeping over. I mean, isn’t it going to be super awkward?”  
Izzie frowns her eyebrows in that very typical Izzie-way: “You mean more awkward than the last time I slept over and you had me sleep next to you without answering me? Nah, I don’t think so. And I survived that, didn’t I? Although only barely.”  
Casey tenses up slightly. After Izzie had confessed how she felt, there had been this awfully long silence where she was just staring at her friend waiting for her to say something, anything.  
Casey had panicked and eventually blurted out: “You’ll need a toothbrush! Luckily my mom has like a dozen spares” and with that she had basically sprinted to the bathroom to hide. She pretended to be looking for the toothbrush for minutes, even though she had found a new one within seconds.  
Then she had shouted through the closed door: “You can just grab some clothes from my drawer to sleep in.”  
She heard Izzie move and waited until she was sure the girl had changed clothes. And she knew she really should go back in there, but she couldn’t face those big vulnerable eyes just yet.  
Then Izzie had suggested in a voice that sounded almost completely normal: “Wanna watch a movie together?”  
Casey feels a knot in her stomach at the memory and jokingly says: “Barely? I think you played it pretty cool, suggesting we’d watch a movie together”  
“I knew it was the only way to make it even remotely possible to fall asleep while you were lying next to me.”  
“The way I remember it, you slept like a baby and I was the one lying wide awake.”  
There’s a sting in Izzie’s sharp response: “Might have something to do with the fact that you still had something on your chest.”  
That’s when Elsa walks back in: “Your mom says you can sleep here. She sounded really nice.”  
“A voice can be deceiving” snaps Izzie.  
Elsa swiftly responds “Yes, you are right. My mom also has a really nice voice,” and to her relief she sees Izzie’s shoulder relax. “If you two give me your track uniforms, I will wash and dry them.”

“Can I borrow pajamas? And a toothbrush” Izzie asks with a wink when they enter Casey’s room. Casey searches her closet for this one shirt she would love to see the other girl in again, but she can’t find it and settles for a blue one. She still can’t believe her mom is letting this happen. Why? she keeps thinking. What’s her agenda? Is it because she is still oblivious? Nah, that can’t be it, right? She’s been nosy and she’s been giving Casey these all-knowing looks. Is it because they can’t knock each other up? But she hardly believes that’s the only reason why Elsa was so insistent on the open-door policy when Evan was her boyfriend. She is so busy thinking about her mom’s reasons and motives that she does not notice Izzie changing into her old clothes until the girl brings her hands behind her neck to pull her long hair out of the shirt and walks into the bathroom. She regrets she missed the moment of bare skin. After they have brushed their teeth, Izzie immediately slides under the blankets and lets out an exhausted sigh. Casey realizes she is still in her clothes and turns her back to the bed to change into her pajamas. She thinks she can feel the dark eyes glancing over her skin when she lifts the sweater over her head and even though she is not overly insecure about her own body, she still straightens her back and tenses her abs. When she turns around, Izzie’s eyes are not on her, which makes her again insecure. What if she wasn’t watching? Izzie gives her a warm smile and pulls the blankets away. 

They are lying on their sides facing each other and the sexual tension from earlier that evening has disappeared, instead there is a tender distance between then. Their eyes are roaming the other’s face, studying the details, taking in the features that define the other, silently discovering new aspects: the arch of an eyebrow, the pattern of freckles, the shade of lips. Every now and then one of them traces a line with a finger, a careful exploration. When Izzie suppresses a yawn, Casey cups her face in her hands and gives her a tired and soft kiss “Time to go to sleep.” Izzie turns around and snuggles up against her. Casey feels the firm but soft flesh of her buttocks pressing against her stomach. Izzie takes the longer girl’s arm and lays it across her chest, fingers brushing against her midriff, barely an inch below her breast. Heat rushes through Casey’s body, but almost immediately she hears Izzie’s breathing relax and slow down. Before Izzie drifts off to sleep, she adds their first goodnight kiss to her mental catalogue.


	7. Getting to know more about you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Izzie lets Casey in and shuts Casey out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I am sorry for not updating sooner. I have been very busy with online teaching and grading. I hope you enjoy this new chapter, feel free to let me know. I will try to post the next chapter in one week, but I am not sure I will manage to do that.

The two of them are stretching on the track fields after one of their extra practices when, out of the blue, Izzie asks:   
“Was Evan your first?”   
Casey fiddles with the baton in her hands for a second before answering: “Yeah, he was my first” and after a short pause “and also my first first.”   
The puzzled look on the captain’s face tells her she has no idea what she is referring to.   
“Like…you are the second person I ever kissed.”   
Izzie’s eyes widen: “Really?” and slightly annoyed Casey responds: “Yeah, why?”   
“Nothing, it’s just…that’s so cute.”   
“No, it’s not, it’s quite…” she is offended now, but: “wait…why are you…how many people have you kissed? Apart from me, Nate and that random guy?”   
Shit, Izzie thinks. She really should have foreseen that her question could easily lead in this direction, but it was impulsive, so she didn’t and she really does not feel like going further down this path. She shrugs her shoulders and tries to say in a casual tone: “I don’t know.”   
“You don’t know?!” there is a mixture of disbelief and uncertainty in Casey’s voice. The smaller girl leans against the bleachers to stretch her legs and to avoid Newton’s piercing stare. Of course, she knows.   
“I guess like” she pretends to think, to count in her head, “nine minus you and Nate” Is that a lot? Not according to Quinn’s or Penelope’s standards. Or Nate’s for that matter, but for Newton? She fears being judged and is surprised when Casey’s next question does not stress the number:   
“Nine people?” vulnerability in her voice.   
Izzie gives a slight nod and swallows. Almost inaudibly she confirms: “seven boys, two girls,” and when there’s no response: “but nothing serious or anything.” It is true: there had been the first one just to get it over with, some practice kissing with a friend, one truth-or-dare, some kissing on parties, one out of curiosity, and two short and shallow relationships.   
Izzie is feeling very uncomfortable now and pretends to be focused on her stretching exercises while Newton has stopped doing what she was doing to process the information, trying hard not to feel jealous or insecure about it.   
“Okay” is all Casey manages to say. She knows what she wants to ask, but she is not sure whether she wants to know the answer, so she starts to stretch again, an awkward silence between them, something that rarely happens. The silence sends Izzie spiraling into something awfully close to panic: she promised herself to be honest with Newton, but now she begins to wish she had told a white lie.   
Casey swallows hard before uttering: “And was Nate your first?” Izzie jerks her head up, surprised by the follow up question, which, again, she should have seen coming. She tries to catch Newton’s eyes, but the taller girl quickly bends over, hands touching the ground, head between her legs. Izzie is glad they have circled back to the initial question, but she is also nervous about answering it. She takes a deep breath: “No, he wasn’t.”   
Casey springs up, and while pointing the baton at her she exclaims: “Oh my god, Izzie [insert last name], how come I didn’t know this about you? You’re a total slut!” the offended tone is only half a joke.   
Izzie takes a deep breath. Here she goes. With a sudden move, she snatches the baton from Newton’s hand and says, while running off: “No, you’d be my first,” leaving Casey baffled for a second.   
“Wait, what? Iz, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that. Shit!” and she gives chase. She tries to catch up with her teammate, but the second it took her to recover puts her at a disadvantage and Izzie is really fast. Shit, she thinks again, a worried look on her face. She feels guilty about calling her a slut. It was a joke, or an attempt at a joke, but a bad one to begin with and now she had pushed her away. Again. She and her big mouth. Shit, she doesn’t seem to get any closer, which, even in this situation, is a blow to her competitive streak. 

Izzie is on fire, her legs moving in a perfect rhythm. She feels exhilarated, light. She had wanted to tell Newton, hence her asking about Evan, but up until the moment the words left her mouth, she had not been sure whether she would have the courage to blurt them out. Everyone always assumed she had had sex, even Nate, even though the two of them had never done it. She did not really understand why people saw her as someone with a lot of experience. She had never straight out lied about it, but she was smart enough not to actively inform her peers about it either. Maybe it was because of the number of people she had kissed? Or because she was close friends with Penelope and Quinn? Or just because, yeah, no, she really did not get it. But she felt so relieved to have confessed to someone, to Newton, that people were wrong. She hears her own footsteps echoed by a second pair of footsteps behind her. They don’t seem to be coming any closer and when she sees the white finish line, her face cracks open in a wide grin and she pushes her body for a last acceleration. She flies over the white line, screeches to a halt, turns around and smirks: “If this is your best shot at chasing a girl, you need to work on your game, Newton!”   
Casey finally catches up with her. Izzie’s teasing and her shining eyes are so not what she expected, that she stumbles and almost loses her balance. Panting, she says: “I gave you a head start”   
“Is that what you call it? I call that slow reflexes” and while she says it, Izzie throws the baton at Casey, who clumsily grasps at it, but misses. The sound of metal falling on the ground is Izzie’s cue: “See, we need to work on that Newton.”   
Casey growls and lunches forward, catching Izzie in an embrace, planting her lips so hard on the other girl’s lips that their teeth clash. She mumbles: “Sometimes I really hate you.” Izzie snorts and says, before pulling her closer again: “Somehow I really doubt that.” Another hard kiss, and Izzie realizes that in some ways, this one belongs in the same categories as their first kiss: same location, same mixture of relief and exhilaration, same intense sense of things being exactly as they should be.

“I really do wanna kill her this time!” is the first thing Newton shouts at her when she sees Izzie rounding the corner. She has a frustrated look on her face and hits her locker with her fist.   
Worried, Izzie quickens her pace: “What happened? Everything okay? Is it Sam?”   
Casey shakes her head: “She brought me lunch!” followed by a growl. Izzie blinks a few times. She is not sure she heard the other girl correctly:   
“She did what?”   
“I forgot the lunchbox she made me. Apparently I left it on the kitchen counter this morning, and so my mom was worried,” she uses her fingers to make quotations marks in the air, “that I would not be able to follow my diet and instead of just texting me so I could reassure her that my body would not collapse from one day of fast food and that I am perfectly capable of solving such a minor issue, she had the insane idea to drive over here to bring me my homemade lunch...in class!” she huffs, “I think I am gonna die from embarrassment.”   
“Yeah, that sounds very embarrassing,” Izzie scoffs, “You know what, I am glad your mom brought you your lunchbox, because it means you can easily take it outside and there’s no need for me to tolerate you and your mood during my break,” and with that Izzie turns around and walks off. Casey is so taken aback by her response that she does not even try to give a snarky reply or to go after her to continue the fight she suddenly finds herself in. The frustration she was already feeling is doubled and she takes it out on her locker once again. 

After lunch Casey finds that she cannot concentrate on whatever the teacher is talking about, because she is too busy having an imaginary argument with Izzie in her head. She hasn’t seen her since she walked away and she is getting angrier and angrier. She thought they were passed these sudden bitchy outbursts and silent treatments and she is torn between wanting to find Izzie to shake her and shout at her and wanting to find Izzie to shake her and plead her to talk to her. She has texted her, but of course with no avail. As the day goes by, she becomes more worried and less mad, since she does not manage to catch a glimpse of her girl between classes. Last time Izzie disappeared on her, it wasn’t good. So, when she exits the school building at the end of the day and sees her shiny dark hair near the entrance gate, she doesn’t think twice and runs towards her at full speed, rucksack bumping against her back. She grabs Izzie’s shoulder, who almost jumps at the unexpected grip.   
“Iz, wait! What the hell is going on?”   
“Nothing”   
“Why are you so pissed?”   
“I’m not. I just, I gotta go.” Izzie shakes the hand off of her shoulder.   
“Don’t do that. Please.”   
“Do what?”   
“Be snarky, ignore me and then deny that something’s wrong. Why are you so mad at me? Is it something I said? Did I do something?”  
“No, I’m perfectly fine,” sarcasm is dripping from her words, and she adds, with a tone that says back off: “It’s nothing.”   
Casey fights the urge to return the favor and instead of adopting Izzie’s hostile tone, she says, almost pleading “Just…just talk to me.”   
Izzie squints her eyes and tenses her lips. Then she gives the slightest nod. She takes a deep breath before snarking: “You know, I am just so sick of you and the other privileged kids complaining about their parents. Quinn has to visit the Louvre in Paris ánd the MoMA in New York ánd the Van Gogh museum in Amsterdam, Nate’s parents check whether he has done his homework, Penelope is forced to go skiing, Eve’s parents insist on attending every musical performance she does. Yes, parents that care really suck. You think Elsa bringing you lunch is embarrassing? My mom once showed up in front of school to pick me up. She was high, obviously unfit to drive, wearing PJ’s and slippers, smelling like alcohol and something that could and might very well have been vomit. She had left my brother and sister at home unattended. So, forgive me if I don’t really sympathize with your situation.” She turns around and continues walking toward the gate.

Casey could hit herself right now for being such an idiot. Their complaining about their moms and their vows to never become like them had in some way marked the beginning of their friendship and she had cherished this shared frustration ever since. Of course, she had learned more about how different their situations actually were, but she had never reassessed or wondered whether Izzie ever thought she was exaggerating. (Casey knew she was, but she had assumed Izzie thought that was funny). She had been so hurting by Izzie shutting her out this morning, that she had failed to wonder whether the girl might actually have had a good reason to do so. Izzie has reached the bus stop now and is checking her phone. Casey approaches her again, ashamed this time: “Iz, I am so, so sorry. I am a dumbass. I should have been more considerate.” She doesn’t look up from her phone, does not even acknowledge having heard Casey. A little desperate, she continues, “I know my mom is nothing like your mom, but, in some way, I also don’t know, you know? Because you never talk about it. Not really. Not in detail,” she is searching for the right tone, the right words, trying hard not to sound like she’s somehow blaming the other girl, “and I’m not saying you should let me in, I’m just saying you can.” The bus stops. The black-haired girl finally stops looking at her screen and catches Casey’s gaze. “I know. Now I really gotta go,” is all she says before she quickly gets on the bus. Was there an apologetic tone in her voice? Casey is not sure and the feeling of not knowing whether they’re good or not makes her very nervous.


End file.
